The Grim Malediction of Count Valdemahr
by Benestro
Summary: Khenem had long ago made a friend of horror. A priest of Set is not unmanned by the sight of the elder blasphemies.


**I**

 **Black Candles**

"Have a care, lad! You'll bring the roof down upon our heads!"

"Yes, Master Khenem."

Khenem, priest of Set, and his young apprentice Mahu picked their way down a cluttered, ill-kept corridor within the massive labyrinth that lay beneath the Temple of Set in shadow-haunted Khemi.

The sputtering torch held aloft by the elder Khenem illuminated crumbling mortar, cracked masonry and niter encrusted walls. Mahu led a bound captive at the end of a rope, a dusky young street girl recently delivered to the temple. She had weakly struggled against her fate, causing Mahu to stumble into one of the shoddily placed timber frameworks meant to reinforce the tottering corridor, bringing a shower of fine sand and dust down upon the close-shaven pates of the two priests.

* * *

Khenem muttered angrily. "If this tunnel is not repaired soon, this whole wing will cave in, bringing Set's anger down upon us! I've spoken to the council about it, but they just wring their hands and wail about the difficulty finding suitable workers. Bah!

"Perhaps they should consider ending the practice of slaying and entombing the work parties after they finish their tasks?" suggested young Mahu.

"And have our secrets revealed to the unwashed masses?" scoffed the elder man, "I think not! Really, Mahu, you must learn to think things through before you speak!"

"Yes, Master Khenem."

At length they arrived in a circular chamber. Khenem went to the twin bronze, serpentine shaped candelabras on either side of the entrance and lit the black candles held there. Illuminated, the room was revealed to be in a similar state of decay as the rest of the structure. The once elaborate frescoes had fallen away from the wall, and all furnishings and adornments had since been taken to more well-used parts of the temple. It was now empty save for a heavy iron ring set in the center of the floor. Another open doorway, identical to the one they'd entered trough, stood directly opposite to them. Khenem did not light the tapers there.

"Secure the sacrifice, Mahu."

Mahu nodded and hauled the writhing girl to the iron ring and made the rope fast to it.

"Please master priest." whimpered the girl, her dark, tear-filled eyes pleading to the youthful lay-priest. "Do not do this to me! I am a faithful servant of Set! I have done you no ill! I beg thee!" It was true, the waif had done aught wrong save being alone and unprotected when the priests scoured benighted city streets for suitable victims. Mahu did not like the practice, but still…was it not the will of Father Set?

The young priest blanched and stammered. "I…it is…"

"Do not fret so, child!" it was Khenem who spoke, with an air of wisdom and authority. "This is the fate ordained for you by Father Set. It is a great honor! Your spirit will be held in great esteem in the afterlife! Mahu! To my side lad!"

Mahu came as he was bid and took his place at his master's side.

"Best to not converse with the sacrifices, boy."

"Is this…what we do…Is it truly the will of Set?"

Khenem regarded his pupil with a raised eyebrow, "Such questions! Put them from your mind! The Princess is among the most beloved of our lord's servants. Catering to her needs is one of the priesthood's most sacred duties! Now, calm yourself and recite the litany with me!"

"Yes, Master"

Both priests folded their arms and positioned their fingers in the proscribed manner, making the Sign of the Eye. Then they bowed their heads and spoke the ancient words.

 _"Iä! Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Sutekh! Iä! Akivasha wgah'nagl fhtagn."_

Again and again they repeated the tortuous phrase, accompanied by the sobs and whimpers of the girl-child tied to the floor.

After a seeming eternity, two pinpoints of golden fairy-fire became visible, and a pale shape was disgorged from the darkness within the opposite doorway. It was a tall, ivory-skinned woman of aristocratic bearing, her voluptuous body bare save for velvet sandals and a jewel-crusted girdle about her supple waist. A lush mass of dark ringlets framed her exquisite face. Mahu's voice trailed off as he became entranced by the woman's dark, marvelously large eyes. In them he found a cold cruelty, cosmic hunger, and a deep, bitter loneliness. Unwittingly he took a half step forward. Khenem seized the lad's robe and pulled him back.

"Do not look her in the eye! Cast your eyes downward and continue to speak the litany!"

The priests continued the litany with renewed fervor. The pale woman's exquisite features twisted into a grimace of hate, anger, and aye, self-loathing. She turned to the bound captive and seized her by the hair. She drug the screaming girl to her bosom and with her free hand wrenched the thick rope free of the iron ring to which it was tied.

Mahu shut his eyes tightly and fought to concentrate on the litany. But the tortured wails of the captive girl and the chaotic sound of the struggle caused him to once more look upon the horror in the chamber.

The pale woman had the struggling waif in an almost sensual embrace. Her succulent, ruby lips parted, revealing white, pointed teeth. She pressed her face against the girl's throat and the child's wails turned to mind-numbing shrieks of mortal terror.

As Akivasha, daughter of Tuthamon, undying princess of Luxor feasted on the hot lifeblood of the writhing girl; Mahu shut tight his eyes and sought refuge for his blasted nerves within the esoteric permutations of the litany.

 _"Iä! Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Sutekh! Iä! Akivasha wgah'nagl fhtagn."_

 **II**

 **The Ebon Pyramid of Set**

"Damn! I've fair blistered my knees! "

Sigyn of Asgard sat astride her camel, gazing at the bands of scarlet flesh across her knees. The hem of her long white tunic had rode up above her lambskin boots as she rode, exposing a narrow strip of her pale, Aesir flesh to the burning Stygian sun. By the time she'd noticed, it was too late. She pressed her fingers to the burned flesh and winced. She tore the white linen keffiyeh from her head and spat dryly.

"Ymir smite this damnable heat! " She turned and seized the goatskin water bag from her saddle and took a drink from it, then poured a little water on her upturned face, allowing some of the cool liquid to soak into the flaxen hair that was bound in two thick braids on either side of her head. She was dressed in the flowing, loose garments typical to the desert-dwelling peoples native to the sun-seared lands that lay between Turan and Stygia. This attire, combined with her great stature, made the casual viewer mistake her for a man, but closer inspection showed how poorly the garments concealed the luxurious curves of her broad hips and the swell of her splendid bosom.

She climbed down from the humped beast with a groan and strode to the edge of the hill they'd surmounted. Resting one hand on her hip and the other on the unadorned pommel of the broad, heavy sword hanging from her belt, she gazed down with cold emerald eyes at the cyclopean black wedge that was the Temple of Set. "Well, we've arrived at your precious temple, Valdemahr. I'd hoped it would be cooler here, closer to the coast. I need some relief after crossing the desert."

"Northrons like ourselves are ill-suited to these tropical climes are we not?" her companion asked rhetorically from the back of his black dromedary.

He was compactly muscular man, and like Sigyn, was clad and outfitted in the manner of a desert dweller. He was clearly as alien to these exotic, sun-drenched lands as his Aesir companion. His square cut black mane framed dark, wolfish eyes and a pale face of heavy, yet aristocratic features. The broad, sinewy hands that gripped the reigns of his mount were well manicured as befitting an nobelman, but were covered in thick, black, simian hair. All about him seemed to combine the bestial with the erudite. Sigyn could not decide if she found him handsome or repugnant.  
He leapt down from his camel with agility unbecoming his low, squarish shape, and walked to Sigyn's side.

"At last!" he sighed. "May Bori grant that my search is at an end!"

"I'm still not clear on what it is you hope to find in that snakehole." sneered Sigyn, "I've never known the snake-worshipers to hold on to anything save dark secrets and evil spells. You say you're no Witchman, with no interest in eldritch lore, and you seem wealthy enough to not need loot. I confess I'm baffled."

Valdemahr's face took on an aspect of distraction for a few heartbeats, then he composed himself and regarded Sigyn with calm amusement. "As I said when I hired you to guide me hence, I hold myself to be a scholar of sorts, of antiquities and curiosities. Yon temple holds the answers to questions that have vexed me for some time. And while my fortune is not what it was, my position as Count of Sudak affords me a level of independence, so long as I am frugal! And enough of Witchmen! Not all us Hyperborians are members of that vile cult, no more than all Aesir are red-handed reavers."

Sigyn shrugged. "I'll admit my dealings with your countrymen have been unpleasant, but you seem amiable enough. Come! Let us hide these camels and prepare ourselves, we will sneak into the temple at dusk."

Concealing the camels in the ruins of an ancient farmhouse, they removed their outer desert garments and equipped themselves to stealthily enter the temple by donning hooded robes of black silk like those worn by the priesthood. Sigyn also put on a tunic of blackened, well-oiled chain mail before covering herself in the voluminous cloak. She finally took up a great boar-spear that had been secured to her saddle.

"Are you expecting a war?" Valdemahr asked.

"I've taken too many knives to the ribs and the arrows to the haunches to go into that den of vipers unarmored. And the spear keeps enemies farther away than a sword. I prefer to kill foes at a safe distance! If my aim were better I'd carry a bow! I wish you would put on armor as well, Hyperborian! Or at least arm yourself with something aside from that flimsy dagger."

Valdemahr shrugged and waved his hands in resignation. "Alas, years of courtly living have dulled my prowess as a warrior, no doubt to the chagrin of my savage ancestors. I am reduced to hiring strong Aesir maids to guard my person."

"So be it." stated Sigyn flatly. "Let's be off."

The pair made their way carefully to the great black pyramid, passing without incident. The populace was too cowed with fear of the serpent priests to draw attention to themselves after nightfall. At last they arrived to the entrance of the temple, a doorway flanked by statues representing some hideous amalgam of lion and woman.

"Shall we slip in, passing ourselves off as priests?" asked Valdemahr.

"Nay! Even if our robes concealed our pale hides well enough to fool the guards, my atrocious command of the Stygian tounge would give us away at once. I've been told of another way in. Treacherous, but unguarded. Come!"

They circled around the great ebon mass, Sigyn frequently checking a strip of parchment. At last she halted, stilling Valdemahr with an outstretched arm, then indicating a point along the bottom edge of the pyramid. They crept up to the point indicates and found a low opening in the masonry where it had decayed and crumbled away, and had been left unrepaired.

Sigyn's teeth gleamed whitely in the dusk as she grinned. "That dog Liberius spoke true! If the rest of his tale is true we should be able to shimmy through this opening and gain access to the lower levels, where your alleged secrets are held."

"What became of this Liberius?" inquired Valdemahr.

"He said he was going to return here and rob this temple. He's not been heard from for many moons. Perhaps we'll find his carcass inside."

"Delightful."

Sigyn crawled into the opening, followed by Valdemahr. After an indeterminable crawl through foul-smelling, choking clouds of dust and sand, they emerged from the opposite end of the rude passage into an empty chamber. The bronze door of the chamber had fallen from it's hinges and the dim illumination of the corridor outside spilled through the doorway. The pair slipped into the corridor. It was in dire condition, crumbling and hastily shored up with amateurishly constructed timber frame works. A mishmash of sputtering torches and battered oil lamps were placed about randomly for illumination. No one was to be seen prowling the decayed passage.

"This place is a deathtrap." muttered Sigyn, "We are as likely to be crushed when this place caves in as we are to be burned alive when it catches fire. Ymir! The Serpent must have fallen on hard times."

Valdemahr had become agitated since entering the temple. His eyes darted back and forth anxiously, sweat beaded on his broad forehead, and his gait became that of a stalking panther.

"The treasure chambers? Are we near them?

Sigyn glanced at him with concern, the depths of the Temple of Set were no place to lose one's head. "If my source is to be believed, we are not far. Calm yourself Valdemahr!"

The Hyperborian count mopped his brow with the sleeve of his silken robe. "I'm sorry. Time is…I am merely anxious to get what I came for and be quit of this place. Let me catch my breath."

Before he could be stopped, Valdemahr put out his hand and leaned with his full weight against one of the timbers supporting the corridor. With a sickening creak it shifted, turned, and fell. A shower of debris fell upon the would-be thieves and a great rumbling was heard.

"Fool! Look Out!" Sigyn screamed and dropping her spear shoved Valdemahr forcefully backward a mere instant before a large block fell where he'd been standing. More debris poured down from above. Unable to reach Valdemahr, Sigyn retreated down the corridor in the direction they'd been traveling. There was a great cacophony and sand and stone rained down into the corridor. Sigyn fled the blinding, choking cloud that billowed toward her.

When at last she was able to breathe and see, she found the corridor completely sealed.

 **III**

 **At the Mercy of Akivasha**

"Valdemahr, can you hear me?"

Sigyn called out from her side of the pile of shattered masonry that choked the corridor. She heard Valdemahr's voice on the other side, muffled and incomprehensible. Raising her voice to a level ill-advised for one intruding in the Temple of Set, she sought to reply. "Listen! Go back to the ruins where we left the camels! I will find my own way out and meet you there. We can regroup and make another attempt in a day or two! Do you hear?"

Again there came a muffled unintelligible murmur. Sigyn had no choice but to assume Valdemahr had heard and would comply. Doffing the black silk robe and drawing her sword, she set off down the corridor. The lights grew fewer and dimmer the further she traveled. She resorted to pulling a hanging oil lamp down and taking it with her. It proved to be a wise choice, for in a few more paces there ceased to be any lighting at all.

Sigyn continued along the seemingly endless corridor, ignoring hoping that it would eventually lead to an avenue of escape. She strove to ignore the muffled howls, groans, and titterings that emanated just beyond the light cast by her lamp. By Ymir, this was not the first diabolical labyrinth she'd traversed! The Aesir she-wolf placed her faith in the yard of Kothic steel in her fist and pressed on.

At length the corridor terminated in a large round chamber. Which formed a sort of hub with multiple openings branching out from it. Sigyn started to circuit the chamber in an effort to determine which opening might be more likely to lead outside, but the light from her lamp revealed a small, ragged form on the floor. It was toward the center of the room and something about its outline drew Sigyn to it.

"Ymir!" She hissed before stifling any further outburst. It was the body of a young girl no older than twelve winters, dark and long-limbed, perhaps from Keshan or Punt. Her dark eyes were open wide and her mouth was frozen in a rictus of terror. Her hands where bound with silken cord behind her back. Sigyn touched the child's neck and recoiled when she found it cold and lifeless.

"Damned zealots!" she muttered. Anger and revulsion surged from within her with such force she could taste its bitterness on her tongue. "It's always the same! Will their thirst for the blood of the helpless ever be quenched?"

"What sort of speech is that?" The voice was an elegant purr. Sigyn wheeled with catlike speed, sword point on high. The speaker stood just at the edge of the orb of lamplight. She could make out the outlines of a woman's body, pale as the moon. A mass of ebon girls and full, ruby lips. There was a golden glow where the eyes should be.

"Is that Aquilonian you speak? No, more remote, more savage, Cimmerian?"

"Aesir actually." replied Sigyn in her barbarously accented Stygian. "Who are you?"

The woman sauntered toward Sigyn languidly, ignoring the question. She turned her great, dark eyes on Sigyn and the Aesir suppressed a shudder. There was something in those cold black pools that chilled her soul. The woman was unarmed, stark naked save for a few ornaments, and half her size, but Sigyn felt she would have been in less danger had she shared the room with a nest of cobras.

"You have come far, Aesir. Do you seek treasure? There is little left here I'm afraid, all squandered by the priests, or pillaged by robbers. This place was once resplendent. Oh, look at it now." she spread her alabaster arms wide and spun about. "All crumbling ruins! Alas!"

Sigyn pointed to the little heap on the floor with her sword. "What happened to her? Did you see?"

The woman looked, seeming to notice the body for the first time. "Oh, my! How terrible! This temple is fraught with dangers! No doubt the child blundered into one of those, Death lurks around every corner."

"I've noticed. I'm for leaving. Do you know a way out?"

"Out? Oh, yes, there are many ways out! All of them are treacherous though." Faster than the eye could follow, she moved close to Sigyn, her black ringlets brushed against the burnished rings of the mail across the Aesir's breast. "But you are strong," she purred, "You fear no danger, do you?" She reached out and took one of Sigyn's braids caressingly in her hand, and lifted the glistening ebon pools of her eyes to meet the Aesir's gaze. Sigyn did not look away, for a warrior always looks to the eyes of a potential foe. She found herself drawn into their inky depths. She saw foremost the cold eyes of a predatory killer, but there was much more…the wisdom of ages…childlike vulnerability…and loneliness…Ah! The eternal, damnable loneliness! With smooth inexorability, the plump red lips moved toward Sigyn's own. "Why leave?" the pale, bewitching nymph whispered, "Stay with me…be…my…"

"Hold!" Sigyn drew back, blinking and shaking her tawny head. "I think you and I are at cross purposes, I'm not…"

With abrupt savagery and strength incongruous to her voluptuous body, the pale woman jerked Sigyn's head down by the braid she now held in an Iron grip, her other hand gripping the barbarian's sword arm. Her lips parted, baring sharp fangs that she drove toward Sigyn's bare throat.

Sigyn swung the lamp at the woman, striking her across the shoulders and back, she screamed and recoiled. Sigyn dropped the lamp and struck the vampiric harpy a blow across the face. The lamp rolled about the tiles, casting outré shadows on the vaulted roof of the chamber. Sigyn grappled with the woman, striving to free her sword arm and avoid the flashing fangs. She knew the strength she felt in those alabaster limbs belonged to no mortal girl. At last Sigyn managed to get her foot on the vampire's chest, and uncoiling the iron thews of her leg, sent the demoness flying backward. She managed to stay upright, but it gave Sigyn time to wield her sword. The Aesir thrust at her vitals but she leapt away, suffering only a shallow wound above her bejeweled navel. Black blood oozed slowly and thickly from the cut.

"Wretched she-ape!" hissed the vampire. "Barbarian trollop! Who are you to deny me your blood! Who are you that spurn the attentions of Akivasha, Pearl of Luxor?"

"Never heard of you!" Sigyn retorted. "And you'll have blood aplenty; your own when I split your damned skull, you…"

As Sigyn lunged to deal a savage cut, Akivasha leapt back once more. Her back to the wall, she seemed at bay, but her fingers traced along a design carved in the stones behind her. There was a mechanical hiss. Sigyn's blade rang out loudly against iron bars that appeared between her and her enemy. Seeking to go around she found more bars to her right and to her left. Stepping back, she felt more hard iron against her shoulder blades. By some machination of Akivasha, a cage of wrought iron enclosed her, running from floor to ceiling.

She was trapped!

Akivasha slithered toward her. Screaming in fury, Sigyn thrust her sword through the bars, nicking Akivasha's throat. The vampire screeched and scurried back, her face a mask of bestial hatred. After a moment, though, she resumed her languid, sardonic expression.

"So! The caged lioness still has her claws!"

"Aye, bitch! And I'll gut you with them once I break these rusty bars!"

"But even with your brutish strength that will take some time, will it not, she-ape? And you will grow weary, weak from lack of food and sleep. I need not sleep, I do not grow weary, and hunger only strengthens me! I have only to wait here, just beyond the reach of your sword." Akivasha giggled with infernal glee.

Sigyn grimaced, striking at the bars with ineffectual rage, cursing herself for not buying a longer sword in Koth.

 **IV**

 **The Grim Malediction**

Valdemahr was thrown to the floor when Sigyn shoved him away for the collapsing ceiling, and was struggling to his feet when he heard her voice faintly behind the blockage.

"Speak up, Sigyn! I cannot hear you!"

The voice grew louder, but not enough for him to make out any words.

"Do not move girl! I will find a way to you! Stay put!"

As he rushed back down the corridor, Valdemahr cursed himself for a clumsy fool. His eagerness to gain that which he sought caused him to bumble about like a drunken goatherd! He must not fall prey to such foolishness again! But lo, a familiar malaise began to assert itself upon him. Sweat started from his brow, and the taper lit walls began reeling in his vision, his guts writhed and cramped. He paused, leaning against the wall waiting with clenched teeth for the feeling to pass. His time was running short.

Thus was Valdemahr when Khenem stepped into the hall from hidden doorway and near blundered into him.

"Set! An intruder! Dog! You will suffer long for this effrontery!"

"Nay priest!" groaned Valdemahr, "Hear me, I mean you no ill! Aid me and I will reward you! I am quite wealthy."

"Wealthy eh?" Khenem's eyes narrowed; perhaps it was worth hearing this foreigner out after all. "Speak quickly then! Your life hangs by a thread!"

"You have something here a jewel…"

"You seek treasure? A common thief then? Why rob us, if you are so wealthy?"

"Nay! I need only borrow it. I need it to work magic. To cure me. I can work the rite here, in your presence! You have but to loan me the Heart of Ahriman for a few moments and I will give you enough wealth to restore this temple to its former glory.

Khenem stared dumbfounded at the Hyperborian count for the space of a few heartbeats, then laughed full in his face.

"You are woefully ill-informed outlander! The Heart was taken from here well on a year ago! Pilfered by some red-handed barbarian! I could not help you even if I wished to! Nay! I think it best to summon the guard and have you quartered! Guards! Guards! Come at once!"

Valdemahr heard nothing after learning the Heart was gone. It had been the last and most desperate hope to rid himself of the curse that now wreaked havoc on his body. He despaired, and in despairing, ceased fighting the creeping transmutation that was overtaking him.

Khenem gazed in horror as the man before him _changed_. His stocky body lengthened and swelled, bursting through the rich clothing and black silken robe. muscle and bone writhed and twisted beneath flesh that rapidly grew a coarse, black pelt. The mouth twisted into a short canine muzzle filled with razor fangs. Fingers thickened and curled into savage claws.

That which had been count Valdemahr of Hyperboria arched his back and howled.

Two armored guards appeared on the scene, wielding the wickedly curved sickle swords of Stygia. They stood in dumb amazement at the monstrous form.

"Slay it!" shrieked Khenem. "Slay the thing in Set's holy name!"

But it was over. Valdemahr lashed out, removing the throat of one guard with a stroke of his claw. The guard's head flopped about, hanging by a shred of flesh, as his body reeled away drunkenly, fountaining blood. The second guard raised his sword but never dropped the blow, for Valdemahr's fangs sunk deep into his throat, and his blood spilled out from a severed jugular.

Turning from the crimson wreckage of the guardsmen, the bloodied, hairy nightmare turned toward Khenem, its tall pointed ears twitching and its gore-clotted maw emitting a gurgling growl. It was still clad in the tatters of Valdemahr's finery, and cut a figure that was comically horrifying.

Khenem had long ago made a friend of horror. A priest of Set is not unmanned by the sight of the elder horrors. Commending his soul to Father Set, he spat full in Valdemahr's lupine face.

Valdemahr leapt upon the priest, and with great relish, shredded the flesh from his bones.

 **V**

 **The Fangs of the Undying**

Sigyn fumed as she stood with her back against the bars. The cage consisted of two halves, one form the ceiling, one from the floor. Through some magic or craft they slid out from cleverly concealed slots and met in the middle. Trapping whomever was foolish or unlucky enough to be standing in the right spot. For some time the contest proceeded thusly; Sigyn would have to set aside her sword to try and wrest the two halves apart, then Akivasha would lunge at her, trying to injure her through the bars, Sigyn would take up her sword to fend her off, then the vampire would scuttle away.

Now Sigyn stood, sword in hand, glaring at the deathless Stygian who squatted vulgarly just beyond her reach. The minor wounds Sigyn had inflicted on her had already disappeared. The Aesir wracked her brain for some way to escape. Strangely, she felt less fear than agitation at the confinement, and growing need to empty her bladder. She began to move about in the tiny space restlessly, knelling on one knee then rising to step form one side of the cage to another.

"Why so restless, barbarian?" sneered Akivasha. "You seem truly vexed."

"I was merely thinking I should have kept the silken priest's robe I used to sneak in here."

Akivasha's sculptured brow furrowed in confusion. "Robe? Whatever for?"

"So I could give it to you to put on. The sight of your pendulous udders has become tiresome."

Akivasha sprang to her feet, bristling with venomous rage. "I'll cover myself with your flayed pelt, you wooly cow!" she made a mad lunge for the cage and Sigyn thrust her sword at her. Akivasha barely checked herself in time to avoid being impaled, as it was she took a nasty puncture between the breasts.

Sigyn barked with laughter. "Ha! What of this patience you claim to have? I'll goad you to your death yet!"

"Harpy!" spat the vampire. She touched the wound on her breast and held the bloodied fingers out to Sigyn. "These little hurts you deal me will heal in moments."

"How long will it take you to grow a new head when I lop yours off, slut?"

Akivasha slunk back to her spot and crouched, while Sigyn laughed at her and surreptitiously ran a hand over her face and neck. "I am not wooly!" she thought. "Peach fuzz at most."

Thus the adversaries stared each other down for sometime. Sigyn though sheer force of will stood at the ready, her attention focused on the ancient, bloodsucking abomination that squatted before her.

So complete was her concentration the that she did not start when the nightmarish apparition that was Count Valdemahr loped into the room, his coarse black pelt and tattered rags clotted with blood and gore. Sigyn stared in amazement. Those clothes, the rings on the wickedly clawed fingers…how could it be?

Valdemahr's lupine head swiveled toward her, then toward Akivasha. His nostrils flared and there was a loud, wet snuffling as he smelled the air.

"Valdemahr! By Ymir!" blurted Sigyn, her brain piecing the clues together. Valdemahr looked at her, head tilted quizzically. He knew this woman. She had traveled with him here. He felt the urge to explain, to tell her what happened. Tell her of how a century agone, loving the wrong woman had brought a horrible curse upon his head. A curse that damned him to eternal life, and would strike him with little warning at irregular intervals to transmogrify him into a bloodthirsty fiend. Valdemahr's human mind struggled to communicate this to Sigyn, but his blood-smeared muzzle could only form pitiable whimpers and repulsive growls. Sigyn backed into the far corner of her cage, sword point before her. Valdemahr howled in bestial frustration.

"Yes! Slay her, Wolf-man!" screamed Akivasha, her eyes wide and blazing with the flames of lunatic bloodlust. "Slay the flaxen-haired harlot!"

Valdemahr turned to the shrieking woman. Slay his friend? Never! Here was an enemy upon which to vent his anger. He leapt.

Akivasha dealt him a furious back-handed blow that sent him flying across the room and into the far wall, bring forth a canine yelp of pain and surprise. What madness was this? Never before had he encountered a creature who could match the strength of his wolf form. But no matter! He would not be dissuaded. He charged into the Vampire and clawed and bit at her. Akivasha responded in kind ripping and pummeling him with her unnatural strength and ripping out chunks of hairy flesh with her sharp fangs.

Sigyn watched the savage animalistic battle rage about the chamber. The two deathless monstrosities dealt one another horrific wounds that showed no sign of slowing either of them. Battle hardened as she was, Sigyn was forced to look away. It was then she saw Mahu, the young lay-priest, enter the chamber. He recoiled and stared in abject terror at the hellish contest playing out before him.

Sigyn cried out. "Here, Lad! Help me out of this cage! Move your carcass boy! One of those damned things will best the other soon, and you'll be better of with me and my sword at your side than without! Now, damn you!"

Mahu looked at the wild blonde giantess in the cage, then back to the diabolical combatants locked in a gory death struggle on the floor of the chamber. He raced to the design on the wall Akivasha had manipulated, and caressed it ritualistically. The halves of the cage parted, and Sigyn was free! She ran to Mahu's side.

"Which way out?"

"Here! Follow!

"Do any of these other branches lead out?"

"Only this one. The others lead to different underground catacombs."

"Good! Lead on!"

Mahu hustled down the corridor. Before she followed, Sigyn turned and gave a last glance to the battling fiends. They still grappled savagely on the floor, hideously mangled. Tangled in one another's entrails. Sigyn blanched and followed after the priest.

As the traversed this corridor, Sigyn began knocking down the crude supports as she went.

"Are you mad?" blurted Mahu. "Would you bring the tunnel down on us?"

"Not on us, by Ymir! On them! Move your narrow ass unless you wish to be entombed!"

Mahu did not have to be told twice. He sped along. Sigyn found her self before a thick beam that seemed to be bearing the lion's share of the burden. She ran at it full speed and rammed into it with a mail-clad shoulder. Down it tumbled. With a now familiar rumble, the corridor began to collapse. Sigyn ran as though pursued by all the demons of Arallu until she emerged into the vast entrance hall of the temple. A cloud of choking, cloying dust vomited forth from the opening behind her. She did not slacken her pace until she was clear of the pyramid. When she finally stopped, she found herself before Mahu and a half-dozen guards. The armored warriors raised their spears and stepped forward. Sigyn twirled her sword and assumed a defensive stance.

"Come dogs! Which of you dies first?"

"Hold!" exclaimed Mahu. "This woman is with us! Leave her be. Get thee back into the temple and look for more survivors."

One of the guards spoke up. "But she may be the slayer of Master Khenem!"

"Nay! Akivasha found the slayer of Master Khenem! She battles him now, possibly for eternity. Now go!"

Sigyn watched the guards as the marched of to comply with the young priests order.

"My thanks for that, and for letting me out of the cage."

Mahu shook his head and smiled sheepishly. "Think nothing of it. I have watched too many feed the appetites of that horror, Akivasha. You helped put a stop to her nightmare reign."

"And that of Valdemahr." added Sigyn "Damn! A werewolf! I knew something was off with that little troll!" She slammed her sword into its scabbard and stretched luxuriously. "Those two deserve each other! I hope they learn to enjoy one another's company entombed under that temple!"

"You think they survived?"

"I've no doubt about it! Hellspawn like that can never roll over and die, the best you can hope for is to pack them away for the next generation of sellswords, cutpurses, and magicians to deal with. But I ramble, what will you do now, Young priest?"

Mahu rubbed his bald pate. "I am unsure. With Master Khenem's death, I am to advance into his position, perhaps I can convince the council to make a few changes. properly repairing this temple for one, and doing away with some of our more reviled practices for another. Father Set will be without followers one day if we continue to murder them so freely."

"Set worship without bloodshed?" exclaimed Sigyn. "The mind boggles!"

"Aye, tis a radical idea. We shall see. What of you?"

"Good question! First I'll gather my camels and head for Kheshatta, but after that, I have to make some decisions. There's a stout smithy awaiting my return in Asgard, but a week ago I overheard a half-mad teamster in Luxor telling of what he saw south of Gamburu and the Black Kingdoms. He said if you go south far enough, the air grows chill again and all becomes as it is in the far North; and at the end of the world there is a great frozen continent dotted with bejeweled, floating cities, inhabited by flying vegetables with five eyes! I ask you, who could resist learning the truth behind that wild tale?"

 **The End**


End file.
